Best Welled Poems
At the end of the rainbow, dreams unfold.
And some people say there is a pot of gold.
How well I recall a rainbow one day
that shone in the sky when a storm went away.
Rain pelted my car; I felt so afraid.
But as I neared home, it started to fade.
The sky, once so dark, grew more and more blue.
I thrilled next to see a rainbow arch through!
It bent toward the mountains, so beautiful,
a peace and great joy welled up in my soul.
No pot of gold at its end did I see,
but still there was gold and it beckoned to me.
The mountains were gilded with a bright gleam.
This is the magic that makes poets dream!
When I got home, I took paper and pen
and wrote of that beauty, God's promise to men.
Again I recall how my soul lifted.
At the rainbow's end, God's love is gifted.
The child stands valorous before the door
With nary a tinge of fear or dread.
Armed with a spatula and a pancake flipper...
She wears a stewing pot on her head.
Her hands are protected by leather gloves
With her Father's boots to guard her feet.
Her swimming goggles are securely placed
And beneath her shirt... a cookie sheet.
With a determined sigh she cracks the door
And peers suspiciously through the night.
She momentarily thought the coming battle
May be best done in the bask of morning light.
But time was short and with each passing hour...
Others would surely die.
So she begins her journey to confront this beast
Who has taken many lives.
She makes her way through the wretched gloom
Giving thought to her parent's fears.
She had never seen them so full of doubt
In all her seven years.
But the time had come to join the fight...
To aid those who gave protection.
And she was well aware of its woeful lair
Where she would fight this damn infection.
A nurse stands wavering from a vengeful night
As another dozen deaths has left her cold.
But she then heard a voice so free of fear...
It brought a peaceful solace to her soul.
'I wonder if you would be so kind
To take this moment and give me some direction.
For I am stout and brave with pluck and daring
And will help defeat this cursed infection.'
The nurse's eyes welled up at such a sight
And a smile reached across her face.
As by her side now stood a child
Who would defend the human race.
So remember this when all is lost
And the best of us lose heart.
A unsung hero will rise to bring us hope
And inspire us all to do our part.
The End
I saw her sitting in a wheel chair,
crippled, mute and almost hairless,
over pumped with chemotherapy,
and aged more than she really was.
Yet I prefer to remember the one date
we had a long, long time ago.
Oh how she laughed that day
as we swam in a lonely bay,
stumbling on the wet sand,
tumbling and turning, the white grit
covering our bodies, infiltrating our suits.
Finally we jumped into the sea, dived down
to bathe amongst sea horses and anemones,
and kiss beneath the shimmering surface of the sea.
Later that night we danced to soft music,
gorged on the sweet smelling bar-b-q piglet,
and drank homemade sweet wine.
Not for you, my mother said, and I was mad.
But mum was right. Soon my date married,
had four delightful girls, till she escaped with them
and with a rich man to another place, another state,
until ill fate struck. And seeing her thus disabled,
tears welled in my eyes, not only for what she had become,
but most of all, for what she could have been.
Alas I will never forget…..
(A conversation with my wife Vera Selena (Osburn) Hinshaw on our 70th wedding anniversary 12 October 2022)
Honey, I thank God every day for bringing you into my life;
For making me the father of our children and for agreeing to be my wife.
We were just two starry-eyed kids when we met on the Bermuda Isle.
Even then I knew you were the one I hoped to escort down the bridal aisle.
Diamonds gleamed in your eyes when we pledged our eternal love.
There is no doubt that our life together was ordained by God above.
Love glowed in our hearts when we were united as man and wife;
Romance has been very much alive during our wedded life!
We've shared so many wonderful memories throughout the years.
There were lean times, laughter, and yes, a sprinkling of sorrow and tears.
Even though your hair has turned from bonnie gold to gray,
To me you've become more beautiful with each passing day!
You've met the vicissitudes of Air Force life with dignity and grace.
You've taught Sunday School and Girl Scouts leaving each base a better place.
You've made a house a home whether in the states or foreign lands.
Our kids and grand kids are what they are today due to your guiding hands.
I brought you a bouquet of yellow roses since they're your favorites, dear.
My love for you grows stronger and stronger with each passing year!
(My eyes welled-up with tears as I knelt and placed the flowers on her grave.)
Its wings were double fronds of gauzy green,
its fragile form a long and tapered flair—
this fallen dragonfly I had not seen
before, when I had walked out on my stair.
I bent and saw that it was not alive,
its body crushed, its wings ravaged and torn.
Yet something of its beauty still survived—
a remnant of the luster it had borne.
I marveled at such elegance in death,
a noble creature, still, upon my stair.
A wave of melancholy took my breath,
and eyes welled for a thing so fine and rare.
I put the grief away and dried my eyes.
Such is the way of tears and dragonflies.
He had always been her hero
She his golden child
The youngest and only girl of five children
He was completely beguiled
He loved and treated each equally
A good man to them all
He was kind ,loving and protective
To them he was ten feet tall
She loved him like no other
A bond never to break
He ….would always be her hero
Her ….his treasured child of grace
Now she sits in a chair opposite him
Her eyes welled with tears
Angrily he asks her “Who are you”?
“What are you doing here”?
For long I have been an aimless vagabond
I strayed far, the world being enormously wide.
Traveling to lands foreign, I searched my fortune.
At the end, fed up with all that was alien,
And wishing to withdraw from the world’s bewildering stress,
Decided to set out in search of my roots and my people.
Parents dead, my faint connections with my folks were gone.
My ancestral home was occupied by my brother,
With whom I had hardly any correspondence.
But when I was choked by thoughts of my dear home
And the yearning to visit struck me as an irresistible urge,
Without second thoughts, I boarded a plane,
And headed to my native village with dreams many.
From far I saw my house perched high on a hill,
Dappled in grey, squinting across the field.
Nearing it, my heart began to beat in pounding thuds,
In the excitement of a reunion long overdue.
Alas! There was none to receive me, only some creepy spiders,
Busily spinning gossamer webs over closed windows
Its vacancy haunting me, I tried to ring the doorbell.
But the rusted contraption sat silent on the cracked wall.
What had happened to the family living here?
Have they migrated to some far-off place?
A hundred questions propped up in my mind.
Wished to ask someone, but seeing nobody around,
I stood silent in the weed grown courtyard for some more time.
I thought of the heydays of my life, with a deep yearning,
To run round the house once more as a child
And be under its shelter, to lie down and dream the dreams of old.
Everything looked so forlorn. Feeling suddenly orphaned,
My eyes got welled up with tears as never before.
Hesitant to chew the unpalatable truth that this house will no more board me,
Casting one last glance with a heart laden with memories,
I turned my back from that spectral home,
Which stood silent as a symbol of UNWRITTEN ABSENCE!
The folded corners and wrinkled pages
of catalogs that were tattered and ripped
From the first of October until late in December
we drooled,
we fawned,
we lusted,
we swooned and giggled
mutilating each page
until the pictures faded.
Sears and Roebuck,
Monkey Wards
JC Penny’s,
Macy’s, Mattingly’s, K-mart.
Our wish list grew long
more than one sheet could hold
tears welled up with each toy crossed out.
Until the list was whittle down
Though the likelihood of getting any was nill.
But still
That’s why we called it the book of wishes.
If wants and wishes were hugs and kisses
There would be no need
to thumb through the pictures
and dream.
Perhaps imagination was the best Christmas gift
I remember…
Shimmering gold ribbons
Draped over the
Glassy surface of the bay of Fundy
On a black see through
Summer night
I was new to love
Shy beneath your penetrating gaze
At a loss for words
And you…
Telling me my eyes spoke volumes
And the tears that welled up in them
Against my will
Eventually falling over the edge of innocence
Into adolescence
As your whispers
And my sighs
Melted on the rippling crest
Of those waves
That came softly
To break upon the shore
As the pale moon looked down
In utter silence
Author: Elaine George
Written: June, 2014
“Good-bye my daughter dear,” she said
As tears welled up in her eyes
“It’s time for me to go to sleep
This must be no surprise
The good Lord knows my battles
And my health is ailing still
He’s given me so many blessings
I’ve passed them to you in my will
I’m sad to say good-bye
For we have shared much joy
Remember me to Sarah
My grandchild I love and enjoy
I love you my daughter
These years together have been sweet
I’m so glad you love the Lord
And again we will meet
I’m not afraid of dying
‘Cause I know that in a while
Christ will call me from my grave
I feel my life has been worthwhile
For I taught you to seek your Father
To help you through every trial
He’ll always be there to guide you
With never a denial
I leave you in His hands”, she said
As she gently kissed her daughter’s hand
Her eyes closed very slowly
Against cancer she’d lost her stand
She’d been a wonderful mother
Teacher and true friend
Faithful to her Lord
And gracious to the end.
Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2007-2012
The silent kiss from the morning's sunbeams
softly brushed the beauty of your face
in a tender embrace of halo light
where my heart quivered in wonder
As our eyes began a spellbound affair
Time seemed still, and the world faded away
Clouds parted and sunlight spilled upon the land
The dawn became weightless when passion welled
into emotional boundaries crossed
where a moment of splendor allowed truth to breathe
like rose petals opening from a fragrant rose bud
seeking warmth from a wondrous sense of awe
When your beauty became a sensual vision
painted by dawn's breaking glow of sunlight
revealing your tender eyes from this silent kiss
that caressed the face I looked upon
As I wandered into the dewy eyes of love
Her sad eyes and tear stained face evoked such ambivalent feelings;
I could barely stand to look upon the half-naked child in front of me.
She turned her face toward me with a pained look begging for help.
Maternal feelings welled up within for this pitiful tangled haired waif.
Gaping in abject horror, I observed the orphan's frail arms wrapped
tenaciously around a dead rat and held close to her dirt smeared body.
I sensed this sewer 'pet rat' had been her only source of comfort in life.
The one thing she turned to, when sad or hungry, would never again be.
While resisting the urge to gather her up in my arms and dry her tears,
still I desired to sympathize... whispering, "Don't cry honey, it'll be OK".
I lied, knowing it wouldn't. Besides what could I do with so little to give.
I turned and walked away not wanting to face my growing sense of lack.
I awoke with a start, shuddering, deeply disturbed and troubled to tears.
Sometimes the vivid images, like a horror movie returning to haunt me,
make me question, "Who is that wretched child so forlorn and dejected?
The memories shake my very soul, the hidden message still eluding me.
Lyrics based on “The Poet And I” by Frank Mills
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-f0YcZ-ECc
(Lyrics start after a 15 secs intro.)
Please, it's important to follow the music; thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘I love you’ she softly whispered.
Her hand lay limply in mine.
Then, she left in silence as the evening turned into night.
She left me alone with heartbreak.
There was no point of return.
Then, she crossed the water as the evening turned into night.
Since then I have lived with my sadness...the ache of longing won’t cease.
I belong to the darkness; the wind has lost its voice.
Memories....
Tears welled up...
Her hand lay limply in mine.
Then, she left in silence as the evening turned into night.
She left me alone with heartbreak.
There was no point of return.
Then, she crossed the water as the evening turned into night.
Since then I have lived with my sadness...the ache of longing won’t cease.
I belong to the darkness; the wind has lost its voice.
Memories....
Tears welled up...
There was no point of return.
Slowly she departed, mist enshrouded, slipped out of sight.
Then, she crossed the water as the evening turned into night.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest Form G or NA
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 3rd
Contest: The Poet and I
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
© 24th January 2017
“The sounds of Earth is the music of my soul”
I remember the valley rolled with thunder
A section of tenors echoed from above
The sky was shredded, by forked lightning
Somehow that moment transcended love
Static electric rose up through the cloisters
The organist played like a demon inspired
Rooftop gargoyles overflowed with water
And eyes welled up, as if nature conspired
Rivers were swollen, the lake was heavy
A boy soprano, almost pierced the dome
Landslides rumbled away in the distance
High on ambivalence, I thought about Rome
The conductor was whipped into a frenzy
Fitfully pointing his wand in the air
As the tempest outside reached crescendo
Defiant altos, sang a hymnal prayer
Beyond the west window, storms fell silent
Shafts of light, shone through from space
Together the choir reached out in emotion
As they swayed stoically, to Amazing Grace
Originally penned 08/10/22
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 14 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
09/13/22
All regrets, in every backward flashback
leave bitter tastes like remorseful morsels
left drowning in your tear welled eyes
each day was longer and lower
lower and loathing
exposed naked in clothing
open and empty without your
....trusting
All regrets, in every backward flashback
chisel names on tombstone with unforgivable clarity
leaving unbearable burials beneath these wretched feet
reincarnated daily sleighing me repeatedly with growing fervor
fervor and hate
filthy face washed over in angst
closed off from safety and salvation without your
....understanding
All regrets, in every backward flashback
grimacing sneers returned in mirrors like evil staring contests
every showdown lost in landslide fashion, reflection laughing
devoured each hour as they slip by consuming
consuming and draining
worlds worth of words and deeds beyond explaining
I'm only half as good and partially whole without your
....forgiveness
Inspired by Mr. Michael Jordan's "Untwisted" contest